The Soul Remaining Piece
by Angels of Fate
Summary: [HP7 to hold us over until July 21] Harry knew had to complete Dumbledore's final mission... and he knew, deep down, that he would have to go it alone.


Chapter 1: Through Glass

I'm looking at you through the glass,

Don't know how much time has passed,

Oh God it feels like forever…

No one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head…

-Stone Sour

Harry Potter awoke abruptly from a sound sleep and smashed his head on the pipe above his makeshift bed in Ron's room. He cursed rather at length, rubbing his forehead.

"OY! Quiet down up there!" an irritated voice—one of the twins, but he couldn't tell which—shouted from below.

"Yeah! _Some_ of us are still trying to sleep!" the other twin shouted. From the light shining on the grass below from the twins' window, Harry knew that this statement did not mean the twins in particular.

"Sorry!" he hissed down the pipe, swinging his legs from underneath the bright orange Chudley Cannons sheet and standing. He pushed his glasses onto his nose and headed to the window, where the first blushes of dawn were slowly lightening the grey sky. Not a cloud in sight—a good omen for Bill and Fleur's wedding day.

He frowned, trying to remember what woke him. Vague images of mists and shadows filled him for a moment, and the involuntary shiver they produced made him quickly stop trying to recall his dream. Most of his dreams were not ones he would care to live again, anyway.

He padded down the stairs and stopped in the kitchen to find Fleur at the table, nursing a cup of steaming something.

"Good morning, Fleur," he said politely—or as politely as he could through the yawn that decided to rip through him at that moment.

She gave him a tremulous smile. "_Bonjour_, Harree," she said softly. It was obvious that her night had gone by without much sleep, as well.

"Nervous?" he asked, spelling a cup of cocoa and taking the seat across from her.

"_Non_. I am—how would you say eet?—excited about the ceremonee eetself." She glanced around to make sure all traces of red hair were at a safe distance. "I am more concerned with the Weasleys' acceptance of Beell's choice."

Harry noted to himself that Fleur's English had indeed gotten much better from her job at the bank. It seemed to only trouble her with her "i"s and "y"s, now.

"I think you'd be surprised. You really redeemed yourself in their eyes when you stood by him after the attack, you know," he pointed out. At that moment, a bushy head that Harry knew to be hiding Hermione's face came shuffling in.

"Good morning, you two," she said. Using the ribbon in her hand, Hermione tied back her hair so they could see her face.

"Sleep well, Hermione?"

"Oh, well, once I fell asleep, yes. I was reading this _fascinating_ book on the…" she trailed off as Fleur and Harry exchanged amused glances. "Well, anyway, I was up rather late reading."

"Sounds like you."

The sound of feet pounding down the stairs caused the three of them to turn toward the door as the whirling dervish known as Molly Weasley came flying through, hand patting hairpins into place as she went.

"Oh, good morning dears!" she called out gaily. She dropped a kiss on the top of each head absently, leading to two looks of surprise and one of embarrassment.

"What would you all like for breakfast?"

"Eggs," Harry said decisively. He knew from experience that if you didn't express a preference, Mrs. Weasley would just cook everything.

"Eggs! And for you, Fleur dear?"

"Eggs as well, eef you please."

"Hermione?"

"Just toast, Mrs. Weasley."

That earned her a rap on the head with the wooden spoon in Molly's hand. "It's _Molly, _dear," she scolded. "You're just as much one of the family as my red-headed brood—that goes for all three of you!" she said sternly. "Once you're _married_ in, of course, it's Mum," she added, with especially astute looks at Hermione and Harry.

"I should go see if Ginny's awake," Hermione said, pushing back from the table.

"And I'll go wake Ron," Harry volunteered.

At the head of the stairs, Hermione walked right past Ginny's room and headed for Ron's.

"Hermione?"

"Go check on Ginny," she called back over her shoulder. "I want to wake Ron."

"Okay…" Harry said with a bemused glance. He turned left and headed down the hall to Ginny and Hermione's room.

He pushed open the door softly and stood just inside the door, looking at what he had given up. The early morning light was pouring through the small window above Ginny's bed, making the tousled hair peeking out from her sheets look like fire. One foot and half an arm were hanging over the edge of the bed, and Harry found himself staring rather stupidly at that small foot which could pack such power if it wanted to.

Suddenly, she let out a small noise that snapped him from his reverie and he moved forward. "Ginny?" he whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly and blinked. "Harry?"

"Time to get up," he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Oh." She swung her legs out from under the covers, and Harry watched her legs without meaning to, seemingly long due to the shorts she wore to bed.

Ginny caught this look and sighed. "Harry, we really need to talk after the wedding."

He shook his head and turned his face away. "It's all been said, Ginny."

"True, you've had your say. Tonight, I'll have mine." She stepped past him to the closet.

"If you don't mind, I need to change." She raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to stay?"

He hurriedly backed out of the room only to bump into Ron, who was coming down the stairs with a goofy grin on his face.

"Mornin', mate!" he said cheerfully. He looked past Harry to where Ginny was closing the door with a determined look on her face and frowned suddenly. "You really are right thick, aren't you?"

"It's too early for this," Harry groaned.

"Mate, Ginny isn't going to take this lying down. Now that she's gotten over Dumbledore's death, she's going to be ruddy pissed!"

"I know."

"So…"

Harry sighed. "So, I'll deal with it. I'm going after the Horcruxes on my own. We've discussed this."

Ron slammed his hand flat on the wall near Harry's head. "You really _are_ stubborn! We'll see about this."

Harry frowned and headed up the stairs. "I'm going to get ready for the wedding… I suggest you go eat something." He refused to turn around and look at his tall friend, who was most likely glaring at his back.

Harry stole into Ron's room and took out the miniature trunk from the bedside table. All his things were tucked inside carefully except Hedwig, his wand, and a very important cloak, and he had sent his owl out on a letter run to Remus in order to avoid a scene. While the entire house was in turmoil getting ready for the ceremony, he had a perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed and head out after the remaining pieces of Tom Riddle's shredded soul.

Finally, he left a single piece of parchment on his tidy bed and took a final look around. This was it, then. He was off.

He took a deep breath and swirled his invisibility cloak around his shoulders, feeling its weight settle comfortably onto him. Luckily, Mr. Weasley had taken him for his Apparition test last week, right after his birthday.

He focused on the last place he ever thought he'd visit again and closed his eyes as he felt his body being squeezed down to a single atom. With a muffled bang, he was standing in the street, staring at Sirius's house… well, his house.


End file.
